


Varterral Claws

by AsMyWimseyTakesMe



Series: Bits and Bobs [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: "What If" scenario, Author's Head Canon, Gen, Not Betaed, One Shot, You can't convince me otherwise, Zevran and his Warden totally travel together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8099236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsMyWimseyTakesMe/pseuds/AsMyWimseyTakesMe
Summary: In which Garrett Hawke and party meet the Hero of Fereldan, and a certain ex-Crow, over a varterral's corpse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my fic folder forever. So I'm posting. It's unbetaed and very old, but I had fun with it.
> 
> This is a one-shot, and while this is totally my Warden both in-game and in-headcanon, this particular piece will not be part of any long Dragon Age: Origins fic that may or may not be written in the future.
> 
> **Also, this fic begins immediately after the flirty dialogue between Zevran and Hawke when they first meet on that DAII mission.**

“Really, Zev, must you flirt with everything that moves?” 

The voice was light and teasing, with a cultured lilt and obvious Fereldan intonations. It was also coming from above the varterral’s corpse. Hawke stepped back from Zevran, his hand twitching toward his staff, even as he heard his companions shifting into defensive positions. Zevran, however, suddenly brightened and whirled to face the shadowy figure that was perched on a rock above the slain monster. 

“Amor! I did not expect you to return so soon!” 

“So I see.” The figure jumped carefully down and crouched beside the varterral, tapping at its skull. “Is this a varterral? How long did it take to kill it? I wonder if there are properties in its blood. Maybe its bone would make good armor? Ooooh, Zev, can I have the claws? I want to make a necklace for Morrigan, I don’t think she has one made of varterral claws!” The newcomer moved to poke at the claws excitedly. “I can’t believe you fought a varterral and I wasn’t here, Zevran! That is so awful of you, really!" 

Hawke blinked at the bombardment. Fenris caught his eye and raised a brow in question, and Garrett shrugged. 

“This…sounds very familiar.” Anders muttered, and then he choked out a barely audible “Maker’s balls, it can’t be…” 

The newcomer rose from the varterral and stepped toward a laughing Zevran, which brought him into the light. It was another elf, but unlike Zevran, who was golden-skinned and stockier than most elves Garrett had encountered, this elf was slimmer than Fenris and pale to the point where Garrett could already see a sunburn across his nose. His long hair was a brilliant shade of red-gold, pulled into a braided tail, his face was sharply elegant (outside the strong chin), and his eyes were large, grey, and reminded Garrett of a wide-eyed puppy. 

And he was wearing the armor of a Grey Warden mage, with a wicked-looking staff on his back. Garrett immediately moved back toward Anders, blocking the other man with his body. Varric and Fenris moved with him, casually taking up stances on either side of the mages. If the Warden wanted to take Anders, they could stop him, even with a Crow on the Warden’s side, Garrett told himself, watching the two elves carefully. 

The Warden was frowning at Zevran, which made his nose wrinkle and just exacerbated the image of a disgruntled puppy. The assassin was doing his best to appear contrite, but his mouth kept ticking up at the corners. 

“Really, darling, I’m beginning to think you cooked up that trail of clues just to get me out of the way while you dealt with these Crows.” 

There was silence. Garrett blinked as Zevran ran a hand over his hair, a sheepish look on his face. The Warden rolled his eyes. 

“Of course you did. Zevran, if an Archdemon couldn’t kill me, I doubt a few Crows would be an issue, and you know it, you daft overprotective sod.” 

Garrett’s thoughts ground to a halt, even as Varric began coughing and Fenris froze. Anders, however, seemed to regain his composure and shoved his way past Hawke. 

“Maker’s breath, I thought I was seeing things! Alim!” 

The Warden—the _Hero of Ferelden_ , Andraste’s knickers, Carver would never believe him—turned and lit up at the sight of Anders. He gave a happy squeak and dove forward, wrapping his slender arms around Anders’ waist and squeezing. Anders wheezed; the Hero was obviously stronger than he looked. 

“Anders! You’re here! Why are you here? You’re not wearing Warden colors, why aren’t you wearing Warden colors? Are you okay? I’m so glad to see you! Where’s Ser Pounce-a-lot?” 

“Doesn’t he ever stop?” Fenris wondered, scowling at the two mages. Zevran moved up beside them and shook his head; he was watching the smaller elf with an absolutely besotted smile. 

“No, no he does not, my friend. That’s what comes of a curious little Circle scholar who became a Grey Warden and discovered a knack for destruction.” Zevran said dryly. “He never stops asking questions and trying to find answers; his questions just get stranger and his answers tend to make things explode.” 

“Is he actually the Hero of Fereldan?” Varric asked. He slung Bianca across his back and stood next to the Crow. “I mean, he’s so small. And cute. Most of the stories make you think he was ten feet tall and breathed fire.” 

“He can actually breathe fire.” Zevran grinned at their disturbed looks, then sobered. “But yes, friend dwarf, he is the Hero. Do not underestimate him, eh? That is how Lohgain lost.” 

Alim Surana, Hero of Fereldan and the Fifth Blight, finally stepped back from Anders. His grin disappeared and he looked solemnly up into Anders’ face, his hands resting lightly on the other mage’s forearms. Anders was still and silent, staring down at his former commander. 

“You can tell me everything later, if you want to do it privately.” The elf said softly. “I can tell it’s been a rough road.” His smile returned, slightly softer. “I’m glad to find you alive, Anders.” 

“As I am glad to see you alive, Warden-Commander.” Anders smiled, then laughed as Alim scowled and smacked his shoulder. 

“I’m no longer Warden-Commander of Ferelden, you ass! You know this, I gave the post to Nathaniel! And then the Orlesians took over, I hear, but still!” 

“And as far as I know, Nate stills calls you Warden-Commander.” Anders laughed, fending off Alim’s light blows. “Face it, Alim. You go back to Ferelden and the king will put you in charge in a blink, with or without Weisshaupt’s permission.” 

Alim huffed and turned, tossing his head so his braid flicked Anders’ nose. The human mage sneezed and rubbed at his nose while Alim walked toward the small group. Garrett straightened as those grey eyes, suddenly sharper, focused on him. A memory flickered in Garrett’s mind, of this elf (young, so young, with carefully banked terror in his eyes) moving among the refugees in Lothering, his hands glowing green with healing magic. 

“You must be the Champion of Kirkwall I’ve heard so much about.” Alim stopped in front of him. Garrett was a good foot taller than the Warden, but he felt small under that knowing gaze. When Alim reached out a hand, Hawke quickly clasped it. 

“Garrett Hawke, yes.” 

Alim frowned, then his eyebrows lifted. “Wait, Hawke? Are you from Ferelden?” 

Zevran moved forward to join his lover, curiosity plain on his face, even as Garrett’s group shifted in surprise. Anders had rejoined them and patted Garrett’s shoulder. Alim looked thoughtful for a moment. 

“I could swear I—oh!” The elven mage snapped his fingers. “That’s right! Lothering, right after Ostagar, when we were trying to figure out plans and how to get Sten out of that damned cage; there was a family by the name of Hawke who were helping the refugees. In fact…” Alim eyed Hawke and grinned. “I seem to remember a young shadow on my heels as I dispensed healing among the needy that night.” 

Garrett blushed red.

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **FYI:** There's likely a few things that are twisted or gone entirely when it comes to canon in this one-shot, because honestly I played Origins and Inquisition a lot more than DAII. I also tend to shove my own headcanon into my stories, so...
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
